As we pulled into the driveway (the drive home was very quick), Tristan threw the car in park and both he and Grandma bolted for the house. There were two bathrooms so I wasn’t worried. I could always use the shed in the back yard if I had to, and it seemed as if I would. I ambled back there. There was nobody around. I’d done this before…but as I came around the house a disgusting sight met my eyes. At the chain link fence stood a woman, sobbing and hissing curses. At her feet lay a mangled, dirty mess of…well, dead something. With fur. I knew.
“He did this! He did this and then dug it up just to torture me! Didn’t he!?” she screamed, pointing first at the thing and then over her shoulder. I remembered her name was Joan and that, yes, it seemed likely to her that her husband had done the
